Authors note: If you read my Whumptober 2019 stories you will recognise the end of this chapter and some of the next one from the prompt 'Shackled'. It is the last of the prompt I have used as the basis of this story.

Baron Gerard lived in an impressive chateau a few hours ride from the city. Unlike his somewhat plain city residence, the chateau was grand, marred only by the encroaching rocky landscape. The sprawling lawns leading up to the red brick and marble fronted building were neatly cut with tidy borders of small box hedges. The three floors of the chateau were symmetrical, a large double door with an ornate carved stone surround provided the centrepiece of the building. A focus drawing the eye in. Although the four watching Musketeers were not drawn to the detailed stonework. They were watching the group of people standing on the main paved area in front of the large doorway. A group of black-clad men were sparring, much to the delight of an older man who was watching them from the steps in front of the door. Gerard was stood next to the man; he did not look as impressed.

The Musketeers had spent a little time setting up camp a mile from the chateau before cautiously approaching the property. The rocky surrounding provided several good vantage points over the Chateau. They had a good view of the main approach and one side of the property.

'We need to get closer,' said Athos. 'We need to thin them out.'

Porthos nodded, 'they are using this place as their headquarters, probably had to regroup after the first failed attempt on the king.'

Athos looked across to Aramis who was staring intently, his keen eyes taking in every detail. Aramis glanced at Athos.

'I think at least two of them were with the attackers this morning. There were some that ran straight away. The one watching from the left, with the eye patch. They must have fled Paris and come here, perhaps that was the plan and the ones we killed were just too slow and were forced to fight.'

D'Artagnan was also looking at the group of men. Athos detected frustration in his friend. It was the young Musketeers turn to notice he was being scrutinised.

'I don't know,' he said with a shake of his head. 'There's something about that one standing a bit apart... I can't work out what it is though.'

They had all noticed the lithe man stood a few yards from Gerard and the other watching men. They were too far away to see the man in detail a large brimmed hat made it impossible to see the man's face. They only recognised Gerard due to spending a lot of time following him in the previous weeks.

'Do you think you recognise some of them?' asked Porthos.

'Maybe,' d'Artagnan paused for a few seconds. 'The older one, that looks like he's in charge-'

'Someone who was there when you were injured?' suggested Aramis. 'Don't try to force the memory.'

D'Artagnan shook his head with a sigh.

'We need to infiltrate,' said Aramis after a few more minutes of observation.

Porthos said, 'but Gerard will recognise us, he'll have seen us at the Palace...I've spoken to him a couple of times.'

'He's never spoken to me,' remarked Aramis.

Athos glanced at d'Artagnan who nodded his head, 'I've spoken to him as well. He'd heard I'm from Gascony he wanted to know what the farming was like there.'

'And he will know me,' said Athos.

'What did he talk to you about?' asked Aramis, looking at Porthos.

Porthos thought for a moment, 'he asked me about wages and what our living conditions were like. I was honest with him; I got the impression he thought we deserved better… he er… he actually offered me a job.'

'And you're only telling us this now?' said Aramis with a huff of laughter.

'I'd forgotten,' retorted Porthos. 'We were the last to know what this was all about, and then you two were injured and then we just spent forever following him around...sorry.'

Athos could see his friend looked guilty for the oversight, but at the same time could understand how he had missed what could have been an important piece of information.

'What sort of job did he offer you?' asked Aramis.

'He wanted a bodyguard. He was willing to pay well,' Porthos paused looking at the men in the grounds of the chateau, 'they're probably getting paid well…'

Athos tilted his head slightly and looked at Aramis, 'you have a plan?' he asked.

'Obviously, Porthos is the one that is going to get us in,' Aramis replied.

'Us?' said Porthos.

'You and me. You're not going in there alone. You will be the disenchanted Musketeer and I will be another soldier from… the infantry… we don't want to both be Musketeers; Gerard will find that suspicious. Gerard's never spoken to me-'

'He's probably seen you around at the Palace,' said d'Artagnan.

Aramis shook his head before undoing his pauldron and sliding it off his arm and slipping his bandolier over his head.

'Out of uniform... different hat…'

Athos sighed and rolled his eyes as Aramis took his hat and swapped it with his own.

'No fancy guns…' continued the Musketeer.

Aramis pulled his guns from his belt running his fingers over the details on the handles for a few seconds before handing them to d'Artagnan. Athos had to admit that even with the few simple changes Aramis had made he already looked quite different.

'Swap you doublet with d'Artagnan,' he suggested, 'then I think you will be unrecognisable, but probably only for a casual inspection.'

'Gerard's not really the one we need to fool,' said Aramis. 'That other man down there. The older one who is enjoying watching the other men spar. He's the one in charge. He's who we need to fool.'

Athos nodded, he approved of the plan.

'We will scout the area, whilst you are busy with Gerard,' said Athos with a nod toward d'Artagnan who was busy shrugging out of his doublet. 'We will thin the men out a bit. There are bound to be patrols that can be neutralised.'

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Aramis and Porthos set off on their infiltration mission a few minutes later. After deciding that they would rendezvous back at their camp the following morning, the two Musketeers said their goodbyes and walked towards the chateau, careful to take a circuitous route so that they could approach from a plausible direction and not inadvertently give away the position of their camp.

D'Artagnan, now wearing Aramis' doublet, watched them go as he double-checked his weapons were where he wanted them to be. Athos was doing the same thing a few feet away.

'If you are destined to remember the things you have forgotten,' said Athos, 'you will remember them. Stop blaming yourself for the loss of something that you do not even know would be useful.'

D'Artagnan knew his friend was right, but he could not help to continue to feel guilty. He was sure there was something about the men they had observed outside the chateau. He was sure he recognised them, but he could not work out why it was important for him to remember. He sighed with a shake of his head; Athos was correct he would only wind himself up if he continued to try to remember.

He followed Athos from their camp, back towards the spot they had been observing the sparring men. They intended to watch Porthos and Aramis until they had been accepted by the group then start a slow sweep looking for patrols that they could take out. Anything they could do from the outside would help Porthos and Aramis in their attempt to secure Gerard to return him to Paris for interrogation.

Athos made himself comfortable on a low branch, d'Artagnan stretched out on the ground peering over the edge of some protruding rocks. The sparring group were still at the front of the chateau, but Gerard had disappeared. D'Artagnan wondered if that would be a good thing or not, it meant that Porthos would not be able to use his previous conversations with the man as a starting point for their infiltration attempt. His friends were good at adapting to situations as they unfolded, d'Artagnan knew they would be fine regardless.

'The man you thought you recognised from somewhere,' said Athos, 'is a woman.'

D'Artagnan looked across the lawn to see Gerard, who had not returned to the house but merely wandered across the lawn a little. He was talking to the woman, that they had all thought was simply a lithe young man. The woman had blonde hair, swept up on top of her head, the hat she had been wearing was lying on a table a few feet from where the two were deep in conversation. Gerard seemed to be remonstrating with the woman who did not appear cowed by the older man in the slightest. She listened to the man quietly until he had said his piece. Once he had stopped speaking, she remained silent for a few seconds before stepping closer to him, she was forced to look up slightly at the taller man. Her response to whatever had been said was clearly one that Gerard was not expecting to hear. He took a step back; he was very much the one that was losing the disagreement. He appeared to apologise before both of them looked in the direction of the gate.

Porthos and Aramis had just walked through the gate, walking purposefully along the driveway towards the people assembled outside the chateau. Gerard saw them, the recognition instant. He spoke to the woman who was looking at the two men. Gerard was about to walk toward Porthos, he looked pleased. The woman caught his arm, turning him back towards her, she spoke to him, leaning into him so that no one else would be able to hear her speak. She was looking towards the Musketeers, who did not appear to have noticed Gerard and the woman.

'What is she saying, do you think?' asked d'Artagnan. 'Has she recognised them?'

'I do not recognise her,' said Athos, 'if she had something to do with the court, we would probably know her.'

D'Artagnan could not help a gasp as a memory returned to him. Athos looked at him with concern.

'She was there…the building that was blown up…she was with the Spaniards…'

D'Artagnan looked back across to the front of the house.

'And him,' he pointed at the man they had decided was in charge, 'he was there. His name…Gallo. He is in charge, of this part of the coup…there's another paymaster…I don't know who that is, they weren't named…'

Athos nodded, 'well done. Although that does not explain why that woman seems to know Aramis and Porthos- '

Athos stopped talking and looked away for a few seconds. It was d'Artagnan's turn to look at Athos with concern.

'When Aramis got back from his observations of Gerard's house, he mentioned talking to a pretty blonde woman…she was a distraction for him nothing more. And Porthos mentioned that he had seen a woman, a young woman when he was trying to apprehend the two men that attacked me.'

'You don't think this is the same woman?' said d'Artagnan.

Athos looked back at the woman and shook his head, 'a coincidence, perhaps… although,' continued Athos, 'the man that was poisoned at the Chatelet, the description of the visitor… I think it was her as well.'

They returned their attention to the group outside the chateau who were now all looking towards the approaching Musketeers. The man they now knew was Gallo stepped forward he was about to speak to the strangers but stopped when Gerard walked up to Porthos and warmly shook his hand. Porthos introduced Aramis to the Baron who did not appear to recognise him. The woman had slipped around to speak to Gallo, she had put her hat back on, pulling it low over her face. D'Artagnan doubted either of his friends would be able to see her face. They might have realised that she was a woman now that they were closer, but they would not know that they had both met her in the previous weeks.

Gallo stepped forward and after briefly speaking to both the newcomers he indicated for them to enter the house.

'They're walking into a very dangerous situation,' said d'Artagnan. 'And we can't do anything to let them know.'

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'You two will make useful additions to our group,' said Gallo as they walked up the steps into the house.

Porthos glanced at Aramis, neither of them could believe how easy it had been to be accepted. Porthos had spoken to Gerard for a few minutes, explaining that they were both disillusioned with their work as soldiers and wanted to leave for work that they knew would be better paid. Porthos had apologised to Gerard for bringing Aramis with him, saying he was from a different regiment. Gerard had said Aramis was also welcomed to join his staff.

As they entered the impressive chateau Gallo had spoken quietly to Gerard who nodded. The Baron turned to them both saying he would speak to them later in the day once they had been shown around and found somewhere to sleep. Gerard had disappeared into a room off the hallway they were walking through.

Porthos noticed Gallo signal to some of his men who nodded subtly in return. He was instantly suspicious, he glanced towards Aramis who was walking on the other side of Gallo. He could not tell if his friend was aware of the signals that had been given.

'We have several rooms at the back of the house. The Baron needs to keep at least a façade of normality, we cannot advertise that he has a small army here. You have chosen to take the Baron up on his offer at an interesting moment. We have plans and two disgruntled soldiers will be able to supply us with quite a lot of useful information, I am sure.'

They were led towards the back of the house. Porthos wanted to let Aramis know that something was not right, but he was not given the chance. He was aware of the two men walking behind him. The man with one eye, that Porthos was sure was the man that had attacked Athos, the one that got away from him when he was trying to arrest him. The man had not indicated that he had recognised Porthos, but the Musketeer was sure the man knew him. The other man that was walking a little too close behind them was a big man, taller than him and broader, his big beefy hands hanging at his sides would be capable of inflicting a lot of damage if they were put to use.

'Put them in the room at the end, I will talk with them shortly,' said Gallo as he stepped aside and pointed towards a set of stone steps that led downwards.

Aramis looked at Gallo, 'do you usually have your men sleep in the cellar?'

'You are not our men,' said Gallo, 'you are our prisoners.'

Aramis glanced at Porthos who nodded once. The silent communication enough. They both turned and pushed the two men back hard. Porthos was fortunate to take the big brute of a man by surprise and cause him to stumble back a step. The one-eyed man tried to grab at Aramis as he was pushed aside. Aramis easily brushed the man off. Porthos was aware of his friend breaking into a run a few steps behind him. They charged towards the door; any thoughts of infiltration were gone. They had been found out, Porthos wondered why but knew he did not have the time to contemplate the question at that moment.

He reached the door, which was standing ajar, without ceremony or pause, Porthos pushed the door open and ran down the steps. If they could get across the lawn, they could try to lose their pursuers in the rocky wooded areas that surrounded the chateau. He hit the driveway but had only gone a couple of strides across it when he heard Aramis cry out behind him. The sound of a body hitting the gravelled driveway made Porthos turn back.

Aramis was lying at the foot of the steps trying to push himself up to stand, a tangle of ropes around his ankles and a satisfied smug look on the one-eyed man's face told Porthos all he needed to know. The man had thrown a weighted rope around Aramis' shins causing him to trip and fall the last couple of steps. Disentangling himself was taking too long, Aramis was caught again.

'Run. Porthos,' yelled Aramis before he was grabbed by the big brute and pushed into the gravel.

Porthos turned back, he could not leave his friend to an uncertain fate. He rushed back, trying to push the brute away. He wanted to hook his hand under Aramis arm and drag him up so that they could continue to escape. But it was not meant to be. The action of pulling Aramis to his feet caused his friend to cry out in pain, almost collapsing back to the ground, stopping himself by clutching at Porthos' doublet. Porthos could not work out what was wrong with Aramis.

'Ankle,' said his friend, the pain obvious from his expression. 'You can still get away… Go.'

Porthos did not go. He could not. His chance at escape was over.

Gallo was standing at the top of the steps, his gun aimed in their direction. The two thugs were up. Their attempt to take Gerard quickly and quietly had failed quite spectacularly.

'Pretending to be defecting to the other side,' said Gallo with a sneer, 'a clever ploy my friends. And you might have been believed. Gerard had already told us he had propositioned a Musketeer. When you two appeared, it looked too good to be true.'

Gallo was standing in front of them both after they had been roughly pushed back into the house. Porthos wanted to help Aramis who could barely walk on his injured ankle, his friend had glared at him a couple of times as they were marched into the hall again. Porthos knew Aramis had wanted him to run when he had the chance, but how could he have left his friend to an uncertain fate?

The woman was hovering a few feet behind Gallo she was smiling but the smile had a cruel quality to it. Porthos remembered her as the woman he had told to keep back when he had been trying to arrest the men that had attacked Athos. Aramis had looked at the woman in a manner that told Porthos that he too recognised her. He wondered when he had encountered her.

The answer came quickly. She walked up to Aramis who was being held firmly by the big brutish man. She stood in front of him for a few seconds before slapping him hard across the face.

'You were more than happy to flirt with me when you were watching the Baron's house. I would have said that was dereliction of duty, Musketeer.'

She was not Spanish, thought Porthos, there was no hint of an accent in her words. If she was Spanish, she had learned French very well or lived in the country for many years. Porthos wondered what her connection with the planned coup was.

Aramis did not respond to the woman's jibes. His cheek had reddened where she had hit him. Although Porthos suspected the pain was nothing compared to his ankle.

'You won't get away with this,' said Porthos, who could not contain his irritation at all that was happening any longer.

He was aware of Aramis glaring at him again. It was obvious Aramis was still annoyed with him and he had probably just made it worse with his outburst.

'I think we will, even more so now that we have two Musketeers to question. I think the information you two can give us will go a long way to making our assassination of the King a complete success.'

The woman stepped forward again.

'Yes, Elizabeth?'

'Are you going to play them off against each other. That one didn't want to leave his friend behind. They probably won't want to watch each other being hurt.'

Gallo smiled and glanced back at the young woman.

'Perhaps you would like to help?'

Elizabeth nodded with another smile.

'But first, we should let them rest for a bit, they look like they could do with a break,' said Gallo with a glint in his eye.

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'You can't leave him like that,' said Aramis.

Gallo looked at him, his beady eyes glinting in the torchlight.

'I can, Senor, and I will. He annoyed me with his pathetic attempt to escape. A shame he felt obliged to wait for you...you should blame yourself. He could have got out, if you had not been too slow, he would not now be locked in a cellar with you...hanging, upside down...by his ankles.'

Gallo laughed as he pulled the heavy wooden door closed.

'It's not your fault, Aramis,' said Porthos from behind him.

'No,' replied Aramis. 'It's yours. You should have run; you could have got away. But no. You stopped to help me and then you had a go at Gallo and his men, rather than taking the opportunity to go-'

'They'd have killed you.'

'And now, we'll probably both be killed. If they don't come back and let you down...do you know how horrible it will be to die in that position?' Aramis paused for a few seconds before saying quietly, '...and I have to watch.'

Porthos did not respond, Aramis wondered why he was being as confrontational as he was. His guilt was making him argumentative with the man that had saved his life and sacrificed his own in the process.

If he had not been caught by the weighted rope and fallen on the steps, not crashed to the ground, not twisted his ankle and been left unable to move at speed, they could have got away. A simple fall had left them with no way out.

Porthos, who was able to push himself up slightly by his hands, was watching him.

'I ain't dead yet,' said Porthos. 'And you know it will take a while. I'll admit I can't do anything to aide our escape, but you can…'

Aramis stared at him; he could not even begin to guess what Porthos was getting at. His friend was delusional. They were locked in a cellar with a heavy wooden door and no windows. Porthos was restrained with manacles on his ankles and currently dangling in the middle of the room. The other end of the chain was outside of the room, there was no way Aramis could get his friend down.

Porthos sighed, 'Pick. The. Lock. On. The. Door.'

It took Aramis far longer than it should have for him to realise his friend was correct. He was surprised he had not thought of it himself, the narrow blade in his boot was digging into his swollen ankle. They had not been searched thoroughly.

'Sorry,' Aramis said as he pulled the narrow blade free.

'I'm sorry I didn't just let them kill you,' replied Porthos.

'Apology accepted,' said Aramis, feeling some of his usual bravado return.

Porthos was correct, the odds were against them, but they could not just give up. He looked at the blade for a few seconds before hobbling towards the door and kneeling by the lock, he peered through, remembering all that Porthos had taught him about lock picking.

'Is it bad?' asked Porthos from behind him.

Aramis thought his friend's breathing already sounded a little laboured. He decided not to comment, knowing he might have to intervene to prolong their chances of both getting out alive, something he knew Porthos would not like.

'It's not broken, but I'll be limping for a bit,' he replied.

Porthos muttered something in response but left Aramis in peace to concentrate on picking the lock. Aramis had quickly decided that he would be able to pick the lock it would just take patience and a steady hand. As he worked, he listened intently to Porthos' breathing. Aramis knew that his friend would start to suffer due to the position their captor had left him in.

Knowing that to try to keep up a conversation would cost Porthos valuable breaths Aramis tried to concentrate on the lock with an occasional glance at his friend. When he noticed Porthos had closed his eyes and was not supporting his weight on his hands any longer Aramis knew he had to act. He slipped the dagger into his belt and limped back to his friend.

'Porthos?'

Porthos opened his eyes, 'mm still here,' he mumbled.

Aramis moved behind his friend and crouched down, grabbing Porthos by the arms and pushing him up awkwardly so that he was not hanging completely upside down. The position was not comfortable, particularly as he could not spread his own weight evenly between both legs due to his injured ankle. It took Porthos a few seconds to work out what had happened.

'What good is that going to do?' he asked. 'If you're here, holding me vaguely upright, you're not picking the lock.'

'And if you're left to dangle, you'll die…'

'You should leave me-'

'Like you left me?'

Porthos did not respond.

'We don't know how long they'll be before they come back...if they come back...and I don't know how long it will take me to pick that lock.'

Porthos looked towards the door, 'and you don't know if you'll even be able to get me down after you get out…'

Aramis reluctantly agreed.

'I'm feeling better now,' said Porthos after another few seconds.

Aramis carefully lowered his friend back into the uncomfortable inverted position and after ensuring he was steady returned to the door.

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